


everything you have never felt

by lovelyleias



Category: Deltora Quest - Emily Rodda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, well one person dies but of old age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-11 00:53:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12923832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelyleias/pseuds/lovelyleias
Summary: In another life, Tora accepted Endon’s plea for help, and Jarred and Anna found a sanctuary that would change the course of their lives.





	everything you have never felt

All in Tora had begun to believe that the king and queen were dead. Time had past since the city had accepted Endon’s call for aid, too much time. Whispers and rumours spread; what would it mean, if the king was dead, if the Belt was lost? But one midsummer morning, a report of two figures in the tunnel brought half the city to Tora’s entrance. Marilen was one of the spectators, hoping to see the cause of the excitement. 

“Is it them?” Marilen joined Zeean as the older woman hurried through the crowd.

“I hope so,” Zeean murmured. 

The crowd parted, and Marilen saw the king and queen for the first time. They were dressed in rough travel clothes, pale and dirty from hard travel. Their eyes were wide with wonder and even fear as they set their eyes upon the shining city. Marilen’s eyes travelled to the king’s waist, but the Belt was not there. 

She could feel Zeean’s thoughts, urging the whispering crowd, _away, away. Let them be, let them breathe._ The command was not directly aimed at her, and so Marilen stepped closer, along with her father and the rest of the city’s leaders, as the city dispersed.

The king had his arm around the queen. Neither of them said anything to the people before them.

“You are safe now,” Zeean told them, spreading her arms so that her scarlet robes fluttered. “Welcome to Tora.”

“Th— thank you,” the queen stammered after a moment.

“We feared for your safety,” Marilen’s father stepped forward. “What delayed your journey?”

“Grey Guards were murdering the women with child on the road, and all those with them,” Endon said, the bitterness in his voice barely hidden by the gentleness of the city. “Looking for us, no doubt. And even others, we saw cut down as they ran.”

Marilen flinched. The thought of such violence and cruelty twisted a knot in her belly. 

“We travelled north for a while,” Sharn said softly, “and turned west when we thought enough time had passed.”

“You have survived much,” Zeean said. “There is much more to speak of, but for now you need food and rest. But first, I must ask— what has become of the Belt?”

Sharn grew paler still, and Endon’s gaze hardened. “The gems have been taken and hidden by the Enemy,” he said, as silent whispers buzzed amongst the Toran elites. “But all is not lost. The Belt is with a dear friend.”

That was the last he would say, insisting that the queen needed rest. Zeean showed them to grand chambers, in the same tall tower that Marilen lived in with her father, and the doors were shut.

—

King Endon and Queen Sharn did not leave their rooms for three days. Eventually they crept out, talking a little, and sometimes even smiling. They were given Toran robes to replace their strange, worn clothing, and some of the colour returned to their cheeks.

They were strange, though, for they did not act or look like how Marilen would have imagined royalty might. Endon’s beard was roughly trimmed and his shoulders were astonishingly broad. Sharn’s hands were chapped and red, and she had exclaimed when she had first been given her robes, as if she had never seen anything so fine. Both had a sallowness to their skin; a hollowness in their cheeks, as if they lived on little food and less sleep. They were just a couple years older than she, but their eyes seemed decades older. But Marilen had always heard that those in Del were a rough and almost undignified people, so she supposed their dispositions were only natural.

—

The first weeks passed quickly. Endon told the full story of what had happened in the palace, and what had become of the Belt. Sharn spoke of the friends who had saved them, and aided their escape. They insisted on being called by their true names, rather than their titles. 

“I am a king no longer,” Endon said grimly, sitting in Zeean’s parlour, sipping tea with his host and wife, as well as Marilen and her father.

“What will you do next?” Marilen’s father asked, passing the sugar bowl to Sharn. 

“There is nothing yet that we can do,” Endon glanced at his wife. “The Belt will never again shine for me. We must wait for our child to be born and grow.”

Sharn set the sugar bowl down heavily on the table and looked away, as if hiding tears. 

“And then?” Marilen’s father asked, voicing the question she herself had been desperate to ask. 

Endon looked toward the entrance of the city, as if he could see it through the marble wall. “And then everything will change.”

Zeean looked over at Sharn and placed a gentle hand on her knee. “I had wondered if perhaps Tora’s magic would embrace you when you entered the city. Have you shown any sign of ability, or of being able to hear our thoughts in your head?”

Sharn flushed and looked away again, as if unable to meet Zeean’s eyes. “I am sorry, but I have not. Perhaps I have too much Del blood in my veins.”

Zeean nodded. The older woman had always been skilled at keeping her thoughts quieter than most, but Marilen could hear murmurs of something that sounded a little like _doubt._

“Do you have any idea of who your family in Tora might be?” Marilen asked curiously, her eyes flickering to Zeean.

Sharn looked up, and smiled apologetically. “I do not think that any of my Toran ancestors had left Del since the time of King Brandon. If I have relatives here, I would not know them.” 

Endon leaned over and kissed his wife’s lips. “Do not fret, dear heart. You are more than enough, with or without magic.”

Sharn beamed, and the conversation was forgotten over time, although Marilen always remembered the very quick flash of fear on Endon and Sharn’s faces at Zeean’s question.

—

The once-queen gave birth to her daughter as the leaves began to turn from green to gold. _Jasmine_ , for the flowers that reminded her of Del, Sharn said. Jasmine was small but healthy, and Marilen had to only look at Sharn and Endon’s faces to know that the child would be well-loved. 

The people of Tora celebrated that Adin’s heir had been born, and that she was safe in their untouchable city. 

—

Endon and Sharn stayed in the chambers they had first been given, and Marilen grew close with her new neighbours. They were of her age, and she liked their company. Endon was as blunt as one could be in Tora, but had a kind heart, and Sharn was unfailingly sweet and wickedly clever. Every once a while, when they thought no one was watching, they would look at each other with such love and sadness that Marilen’s heart would ache with something she could not name.

—

It was a warm morning, and Marilen and Sharn strolled together in one of Tora’s prettiest gardens. Sharn carried Jasmine upright in her arms, stroking the baby’s hair with her thumb. They spoke of books they had read, of stories they had been told, of Jasmine’s sweet curls. The conversation slowly turned towards family. 

“My mother died when I was born,” Sharn said with a rueful smile, kissing Jasmine’s dark hair, “and my father when I was young. But I was raised by my grandfather, who was a stern, but kind man. I loved him very much.”

She said nothing more, but her eyes were heavy with sadness. Marilen wondered if Sharn’s grandfather had been murdered in the palace, but dared not ask. She had half-hoped her friend might say something that would make sense of Zeean’s odd feeling all those months ago, but she did not know what to say.

“I do not remember my mother, I was very small when she died,” Marilen said instead. “But I love my father very much. And I am lucky, for though I did not know my mother, I can see her in the memories of others.”

Sharn shuddered. “I mean no offence, but I would not like to know the thoughts of so many people, or to have them know mine.”

Marilen laughed. She bent and picked a daisy, which she tucked behind the small shell of Jasmine’s ear. Sharn smiled with warm green eyes. Marilen knew that her friend was happy because she could tell by her face, not by the words in her head. It seemed suddenly like a privacy; a privilege, that Marilen had never been afforded. 

“At the very least we are never lonely,” Marilen pointed out, although her words felt hollow. “It is safe here, and I am very happy.”

It was true. She _was_ happy. She was in Tora, sheltered from the evils that reigned in the rest of Deltora. But there was an emptiness in her heart, as if she had lost something that she had never owned.

—

The full moon shone across Marilen’s pillow, but she did not wake. She was far away, dreaming of a man, with dark skin and hazel eyes, and the most intoxicating smile. When she opened her eyes, her face was wet with tears.

—

“Can we go home? I want to see Mamma.”

“Soon, Jasmine, we must wait until we are called for. Your mother will be just fine, I am sure,” Marilen said, as she lead Jasmine through Tora’s busy core. Jasmine tugged on her hand and lead her towards the oath stone.

“What is it for, Mari? No one will tell me,” the oath stone cast a strange green glow on Jasmine’s face, providing a momentary distraction.

“Do not get too close,” Marilen warned. The tale of the stone had frightened Marilen as a child, and seeing Jasmine so close to it unnerved her.

“But what is it for?” 

Marilen crouched. Jasmine looked so sweetly solemn, staring up at her with wide green eyes, half-drowning in her long yellow robes. Marilen had known her for seven years, and had learned that the girl was impossible to lie to. 

“It means that my people made a promise to your family,” Marilen said with a smile. “We will always protect you, and keep you safe.”

Jasmine’s eyes widened. She turned toward the tower where she knew her parents were, and then looked back at Marilen. “What happens if you do not?”

Marilen hesitated, but Jasmine did not look away. “We would have to leave the city, and never come back.” It was not a lie, just not the whole truth.

Jasmine’s lower lip trembled. “I do not want you to leave, Mari.”

“I will not,” Marilen promised. “I will stay right here.”

“Good,” Jasmine said, satisfied. “Does that mean the stone is magic?”

“Yes,” Marilen took Jasmine’s hand and began to walk again. 

“Everything in Tora is magic,” Jasmine sulked. “And every _one_ , except me and Mamma and Papa. Do you think I will get magic one day?”

Marilen pictured Jasmine: grown, with the Belt of Deltora shining at her waist.The image was broken as fragments of Zeean’s thoughts filled her head, calling out to her. _Bring her back now. They are well. She is a girl._

“Perhaps,” she said, as her heart filled with happiness. “Now, shall we get you home? There is someone waiting who I am sure your parents are very eager for you to meet.” 

—

Endon and Sharn named their daughter Aster, and had a boy, Crian, a few years later. As all three children grew, Endon taught them how to fight, how to defend themselves, and even how to kill. 

“Why is he so intent on this?” Marilen asked Sharn, as the two watched Endon adjust Jasmine’s grip on a sword.

Sharn held baby Crian closer to her chest, as if shielding him from the world. “Because they will never be safe, so long as the Shadowlord reigns.”

Marilen could not understand the necessity. Evil might spread through out the land, but surely Tora was the one place it could not touch.

—

Jasmine grew into the princess she was. Although her family lived simply, her shining dark hair and the proud tilt of her head suggested that she was something more. She was the despair of her tutors, for she excelled at her lessons, but often skipped them all together. The other adolescents of Tora were drawn to her, flocking to her side, like moths to a candle’s flame. She wore only the finest of her Toran robes, and painted her lips before she left the tower every morning. There was something fierce about her, though. Even Tora could not quell her fiery spirit. She begged Endon and Sharn over and over again to let her leave Tora and go to Del to retrieve the Belt and find the gems, but they refused. 

“We are safe here, while the rest of the kingdom suffers!” Jasmine would insist. 

“You are not ready,” Endon would tell her firmly, not heeding her as she spoke of her skill with her sword and daggers, and of her willingness to go.

“You are too young, my darling,” Sharn would say.

“If not now, when?”

For that, they did not have an answer. 

—

The man visited Marilen in her dreams once again. He was sitting in a small room, lit by flickering candles. A book lay in his lap, and his eyes darted across the pages as he read. He looked up when he noticed her. His face broke into a broad grin, and Marilen’s heart caught in her throat.

“I do not know your name,” she whispered. 

“The time has not come, my love,” he shut his book, and Marilen woke up.

—

Every so often Zeean would remark upon men who might have caught Marilen’s eye. Marilen could not hide her thoughts of the man who visited her dreams with frequency, but no one had ever commented on them. It was considered rude to speak of another’s thoughts, unless they were to bring them up first. Marilen held her tongue. 

“I just do not wish for you to be lonely,” Zeean said gently, as Marilen shook her head at the idea of the man Zeean suggested.

“I am not lonely,” Marilen said, as her thoughts betrayed her lies.

—

Zeean died only months later, and Marilen wept bitterly for the woman, hating Tora in that moment for daring to try and heal her heartbreak with magic. 

—

She dreamt of the man often, through out the years. Sometimes he did not see her, and even when he did they would speak only a little before she would be torn from sleep. She would lie in bed, long after waking. No doubt he was only in her head, but she could not help but picture a man, somewhere far away, living his life and never knowing of her existence. Or maybe he dreamt of her too. 

“Come find me,” she would whisper to the rising sun.

—

Endon made a curious strangled noise in the back of his throat when they rounded the corner and first saw the boy and the big man.

“My name is Lief,” the boy said eagerly. His eyes were wide as he drank in the sights of the marble city. Zeean stood beside the visitors, her eyes carefully fixed on Endon. “This is my companion, Barda.”

Jasmine stepped forward with a haughty toss of her hair. “I am Princess Jasmine. This is my friend, Marilen, and my father, Endon.”

Lief’s eyes grew even wider, and he stretched his hand out toward Jasmine as if hoping she would take it. “It is _you_ ,” he breathed. “We have _found_ you.”

Jasmine’s brow was furrowed with hesitation— there were a great many reasons why many in Deltora might seek her out. But Lief looked at Jasmine with eyes like stars. 

Endon placed a hand on Jasmine’s shoulder, but he had eyes only for the boy. “You are the son of… Jarred and Anna, are you not?” Endon said the names as if they were in a language he did not understand.

“I am,” Lief of Del said. “And I know who you are.”

Marilen placed her hand on the cool marble walls that had hidden Jasmine for nearly sixteen years, and knew that all of their lives were about to change. 

—

Del was in chaos. Marilen felt dizzy as she saw Resistance fighters cut down Grey Guards, and watched as the people of Del dragged their wounded to safety. The Resistance leader, a huge woman with a shaved and painted skull, shouted orders as her people ran by with their weapons drawn. The battle was over, but there was still much to do.

Jasmine stumbled toward her. She was too thin, her hair was wild and tangled, her face was dirty, sunburned, and she had a rapidly swelling bruise on her cheek. She no longer looked at all like a princess— and, of course, she never had been one. But she was _alive_ in a way Marilen had never seen her. 

The people Marilen had called Endon and Sharn for nearly seventeen years were in fact named Jarred and Anna. Not the king and queen, but a blacksmith and a healer. They were gathered now by the true Sharn, as she cradled her husband’s lifeless body in her arms. Lief, who had once entered Tora with such enthusiasm— _the king, the king, the king_ — held tight to his mother’s hand with Barda at his side.

Jasmine took Marilen’s hand, as she had done when she was young, and they left their loved ones to their private grief. 

—

“I am leaving again, Father,” Marilen interrupted firmly. 

“It is not safe for you outside of these walls,” he insisted, running his hands through his white hair. If had they not been in Tora, if he would be angry, if he would be shouting. 

As terrifying as her trip to Del had been, she had been given an independence and freedom that she had never had in her thirty-five years. 

“The king needs me,” Marilen said firmly. “He and Jarred are waiting for me below. I want to go with them, Father. I want to see the world outside of Tora. There is so much more than this.”

“You do not know the evil of the world, Marilen,” his voice was heavy, and his eyes were tired.

“I have seen it, Father,” she told him gently, “and I will no longer stand idly by.”

—

Tora would always be her home, but the world outside of the marble city was vast and frightening and beautiful. Sometimes she laughed so hard she could hardly breathe. Sometimes she cried until her stomach ached. Sometimes she felt anger boil her blood and sharpen her tongue. Some of her feelings were beautiful, and others filled her with pain. But they were all real, unfiltered, and true. The best part was, no one knew her thoughts unless she wished to share them, and it felt like being free. 

—

It was very late at night, and a small, quiet group gathered in the large palace kitchen. They made as little sound as they could, trying their very best to keep their meeting secret. The Belt felt heavy and cold at Marilen’s waist.

“It worries me that you insist on going alone,” Sharn whispered to Lief. Anna leaned over and put her hand on the other woman’s shoulder. 

“I will not be alone, Mother,” Lief said. He stood with Jasmine and Barda on each side. Marilen could not tell if it was an illusion cast by the darkness, but the king’s fingertips seemed to brush very purposely against Jasmine’s.

“You are sure that this plan will get you safely to the Shadowlands?” Anna asked anxiously, leaning against Jarred. 

“I cannot speak for safety,” Barda said dryly. “But I managed to herd these two across Deltora, surely I can push them just a bit farther. 

Jasmine stepped forward and kissed Anna’s cheek, embraced her younger siblings, and then Jarred. 

“Be careful,” Jarred told her sternly.

Jasmine grinned. “It is too late to start now.”

He laughed softly and kissed her hair. She had left it loose recent days, not bothering to sleek it down with her brush. 

“Your hair suits you,” Marilen told her with a smile.

Jasmine embraced her tightly. “Oh, I will miss you, Mari.”

“Be brave,” Marilen advised, “and come home safe.”

The three companions finished their goodbyes, shouldered their packs and left the kitchen. Anna took Sharn’s hand and the seven people people left behind watched their loved ones go, knowing that all they could do was wait. 

—

Marilen’s heeled boots echoed through the halls of the Del palace. She had heard of the library’s beauty, but had not yet had a chance to see it for herself. Life had settled again, even with Lief, Jasmine and Barda away, and she finally had a moment to herself.

She reached for the grand library door, but someone opened it from the inside at the same time. Her eyes widened as a man stepped out. He was lean and tall, with dark skin and lovely hazel eyes. He smiled at her, a smile she knew, and she felt herself smiling back. She had hoped he would come for her, but she had found him instead. 

“I have met you in my dreams” she breathed, not caring how foolish she sounded. 

His brow furrowed in confusion, but his smile stayed. “They must have been very good dreams, indeed.”

“Perhaps,” Marilen shook her head and laughed. Everything had changed, but change was so gloriously beautiful. “But I much prefer real life.”


End file.
